


Bonded from the Start

by dormant_bender



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Constructive Criticism Welcome, Didn't Know They Were Dating, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Might be Out of Character, Mutual Pining, My First Work in This Fandom, ot3 if you squint reaaally hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 03:24:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5692714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dormant_bender/pseuds/dormant_bender
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eventually a crush can evolve into a relationship.</p><p>.. At least when the two in question aren't entirely oblivious ..</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bonded from the Start

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what this is tbh.
> 
> But here's my attempt at my new otp, FinnRey. <3 JediStorm ? I never got the official ship name. Lol :3 x

Growing up with the uniformitarian rule of the First Order probably wasn't ideal for a young boy. Having been abducted from his parents, with little to no recollection of their facial features or much else, and expected to be raised as a soldier. Sometimes he thinks, when his mind is free to roam within the tranquility of his dreams, that he remembers his mother and her soft, chocolate brown eyes even despite the glassiness they took when he was taken.

Growing up a soldier under the First Order meant he was brainwashed into believing their ideals and blindly accepting them for what they were, without so much of a question or stammer when spoken to. Of course it was difficult for him seeing as his brows would knit beneath the veil of his helmet, or the way his mouth would part slightly as if tempted to speak the words running rampant throughout his mind.

Growing up with the First Order also made him realize that, at least according to lessons, that physical contact was the least of worries when they were trying to take down the Resistance as well as the remnants of whatever they assumed remained of Luke Skywalker.—If there was anything left that is, though Finn never spoke out of turn. But regardless of the rule, he had on occasion witnessed the other troopers pressed flush against one another within the showers, seen the almost hostile-looking way their lips would meet and how skin would slide.

His eyes would widen at the gestures, gulping deeply, as he runs fingers through his damp hair. In seconds he would awkwardly cough and avert his gaze, ignoring the throb beneath the towel secure around his waist, and instead reach for the usual garb. It was impossible not to think about such things, he was only human after all, and he always pondered what it would feel like to experience something such as that.

But alas the opportunity never arose.

Not until after he had assisted in the destruction of Starkiller Base, the real glory going to the beautiful Rey, who could have honestly done it all on her own. He finds himself smiling at the thought of her; soft, milky skin, the way she would sometimes sink her teeth into her lower lip when she smiled, and the way her eyes were always lit with determination and enthusiasm.

 _Rey_.

"Are you not listening to me at all, Finn? This is exciting and I just thought that I would tell you first, because, well — because you're my friend." She tries the word out on her tongue, just as she had many months before, and offers him a toothy, satisfied grin at the usage.

Blink, blink. Dark eyes stare at the girl grinning across from him, her eyes scorching with intensity as she once more excitedly describes training with the great Luke Skywalker: "No! No, no I mean yes. Yes, yes I am." He leans his elbow casually upon the sleek table top and balances his chin upon his curled knuckles. "I just, uh, I thought I.." He finds himself unconsciously looking around the mess hall until his gaze lands on Poe who's leaning against one of the table, talking animatedly with a few X-Wing Pilots about who-knows-what: "I thought I heard Poe calling me."

Thin brows furrow at the words spewing from the lad as she glances over her shoulder to glance at the pilot, before snickering quietly to herself: "You are a _terrible_ liar, and I don't even have to use the Force to figure that out." 

Finn makes a snort of disapproval and lifts a finger in the air, "Actually... That's pretty debatable, Rey." She sends him a look followed by a prompt roll of her eyes as she plucks a piece of her food from the tray she has and flings it in his direction. "Hey, hey! Food fights aren't fit for a Master Jedi." He teases lightheartedly as he flicks a piece of his own food in her direction, pursing his lips firmly when she uses her hand to deflect it, sending it back to the dark-skinned male to pop him in the face.

"Good thing I'm not a Master Jedi.. Yet." She clarifies playfully before leaning across the table toward him, eyes staring at him in scrutiny. "I believe you have something right.. Ah, yes, there." She says pointing to where the interesting colored food was sliding from his forehead.

"That's improper use of the force, you know. I doubt Mr. Skywalker would wanna hear about you misusing your 'gift' as he would put it." There she goes again, sending him another one of those looks, and he finds himself smiling at her — all bright and broad. And, by the force, he hopes that smile will be the thing that sends him to his inevitable death. What a way to go.

-

Nearly a week goes past and he hardly sees Rey; whether it was the extensive training, the meditation, or even the vast amount of meetings that required General Organa, Luke, and solely Rey. Of course he was always well aware of what said meetings were about considering he would always receive the information from Rey in hushed murmurs when they should have both been asleep.

There he is wavering from foot to foot by the door to the General's conference room, patiently awaiting for the meeting to end. He debates whether or not what pose would look better, crossing his arms across his chest or perhaps bending one leg and propping the bottom of his boot against the wall? He unconsciously leans his head back, ultimately banging it against the steel structure he was propped against, and releases a soft, pained groan.

He hears the faint sound of the door slide open to reveal a very amused looking Rey who looks him over, placing a hand over her mouth to shield the smile forming there. Brows are furrowed nonetheless in confusion as she stares at him, silently pondering what exactly he was doing there in the first place.

"You're not actually supposed to be present during the briefings, Finn. I would have found you somewhere on the ship after it was over, you didn't have to wait up." 

Finn's mouth opens and closes for a considerate moment before he shrugs his shoulders halfheartedly and leans casually against the frame of the sliding door. "I just figured that maybe I, uh, could walk you to the mess or something to eat? I mean, if you're hungry. You're hungry, right? Or at least thirsty, all that talking probably—"

She barely hesitates as she places her hand against his upper arm, just barely brushing the leather of the jacket, before strolling in the direction of the mess hall. "Well? Are you coming?" She speaks aloud with a glance over her shoulder, "I'm so hungry I could eat a bantha."

At the thought he crinkles his nose, disdain evident upon his features, as he jogs to keep up with her. "I'd hope not, that sounds absolutely disgusting. As long as you have me, you'll never have to eat a bantha." She glances up at him with a snort, "No, like — I meant.. Obviously the ship has nice accommodations and it's not like I can cook anyway and --"

" _Finn_."

"Well, I could probably try, though cooking lessons wasn't exactly standard training for being a stormtrooper--"

A soft noise emanates from the female as she reaches for his hand, offering it a warm squeeze. "It's okay. Maybe when I'm done with training or have leisure time, we could try to cook something. Or at the very least try not to blow anything else up while the process." Pursed lips. "I don't need you to make me food anyway, Finn."

A sinking feeling floods his heart as she speaks and he finds himself inwardly sighing, though the warmth within his hand made it bearable. "Yeah, no, I get it."

She pauses mid-step and turns on her heel to face him. She places her hands upon his shoulders to halt him in his movements, though he timidly glances away from her gaze. "That's definitely not what I meant. I wouldn't mind it if you cooked for me, it's just — It's still new to me."

And he thinks about that for a moment and decides that he understands. On Starkiller Base and even on the Resistance fleet, people cooked mostly because they were expected to and that was their set job. He was sure some of those employed adored their jobs, perhaps more so with the Resistance than the First Order. He also understands and remembers being a child and having his mother and father both make his meals, encouraging him not to be wasteful.

Neither of them speak for a moment, a kind of communal silence passing between them, as he places his hands over the latter's smaller ones. Dark eyes gaze into the latter's lighter one's for a moment, attempting to relay the understanding that swelled within his veins. Even without the force he knew that she understood that he, too, experienced similar situations with how he grew up.

It was a simple and silent exchange that perhaps only the two of them would truly understand. Perhaps that was why they got along so well, because both knew of the other's troubles, knew that they were far too alike in more ways than one. And it was nice, decided Finn, that he had someone who truly knew what it was like. Someone that genuinely knew him.

For a moment he allows his gaze to flicker down to her lips, rosy and inviting, and he feels himself unconsciously lean forward. But then he stops, notes the fluttering of her lengthy lashes, and instead contemplates just running away and avoiding the awkward situation. It was too hard to simply ignore her beauty and the little things he noticed about her, whether it was the sprinkle of freckles on her cheeks or the scar that laid upon her upper arm from an unknown feat.

As if knowing his thoughts, because perhaps she truly did, she smiles and removes her hand from his to stroll toward where the food was being offered. 

He watches her walk away and thinks that maybe, just maybe she feels what he feels.

And that maybe, just maybe they could complete each other in way's he never knew existed.

-

Three days come and go and he figures he should probably be used to the constant departure of Rey and the general warmth that comes along with her presence. Instead he mostly finds his time occupied with Poe, toying around with X-Wing jet, and even being allowed to fly it on certain occasions. But whenever he finds himself around Poe, he never fails to notice the mischievous glint within his eyes, nor the way he would wolf whistle when he caught Finn staring wistfully at Rey as she walks by.

Dark fingers are absently handing Poe a tool, hand swaying this way and that, as he tries to keep his gaze focused on Rey and the way her back remains ramrod straight as she strolls along with Luke. She doesn't turn his way, however, her head bowed slightly as she nods to whatever it is the Skywalker is murmuring to her. If only he had advanced hearing and could hear exactly what it was.

"How long has it been and ya' still haven't asked her out yet? C'mon, buddy, you gotta do better." Poe murmurs offhandedly as he hands Finn back the tool and instead points for a different one. "That one, Finn, no — Yes, right there. But anyway, you should make the first move before someone else does. Pretty thing like that is bound to have tons of admiring fans, not to mention she's a Jedi in training."

Plump lips twist into a small frown as he once more hands over another tool. "I don't even know the first rule about how to ask or even if she would want me to ask in the first place. Wait, wait. — How do you even know I wanted to ask her out?" He groans to himself and murmurs that it must be something to do with the force.

"No, kid, that has nothing to do with it. Anyone with eyes could see you drooling after her. It's kind of sad, actually. If it'll make you feel any better, the jacket looks really nice on you. Gives you a little edge, I think she's into it a lot more than you think." Murmurs the pilot as he tosses the tool back and closes the port. He leans against the side of the fighter and looks him over, "You already have her attention, all you have to do now is just go for it."

"It's easy for you to say, you're Poe Dameron."

"Damn right. But you're Finn, and you're a good-looking guy." Finn smiles at the words but shrugs halfheartedly. "Probably care about her more than you care about your own life, too, maybe you should tell her that? That would woo any woman with a pulse, and then maybe then you could stop looking so lovesick. It's making me sick just looking at you."

"You know what? You're right. I'm going to tell her. I have to tell her." It was decided then. He rose upon his feet and was rewarded with a hefty pat on the back: "I'm a big deal." That would be his new mantra, at least until the last minute where he finds himself a spluttering mess.

"Good for you, Mr. Big Deal, but you still have work to do."

-

Later on that night when everyone, at least the majority, were tucked away in the bunks, Finn awaits the return of Rey. Capturing subtle glances of her during training hadn't been enough for him, not that anything regarding her would be enough, he was simply insatiable when it came to Rey. But at their usual, scheduled time, he sees no sign of her as he glances around.

Perhaps she had simply had a rough day? But that wasn't like her, even on her roughest of days she still managed to check in to give updates. It wasn't like her to miss routine meetings, which is why he was as quietly as possible maneuvering out of his bunk in a silent quest to reach her quarters. Usually he never went to her, of course, considering there were usually people within the corridors preventing him access because apparently whatever it is he has to say could wait until tomorrow.

But tonight, there was no one there, as eyes adjust to the faint lighting. However, it was as silent as ever. He still tiptoes as timidly as possible before offering her door, three subtle knocks. There was no answer, however, not even a sound from within the room. So he repeats it once, twice, and eventually thrice and received the same response.

Concern dances beneath his skin as he presses in a code until the door is whizzing open. The room is pitch black, which was to be expected, and he also thinks about turning on his heel and leaving her be. Assuming that maybe she had just gone to sleep like he had originally thought.

His fingers dance on the wall to where a switch is, hissing through the darkness as he does so. "Rey? Rey, are you okay? Are you awake?" As if she would respond if she was asleep. He hears a soft sound and he's flipping the switch, feet carrying him towards the floor where she was poised, back resting against the side of the bed. "Hey? Rey? Rey, what's wrong?"

There are no tears sliding down her cheeks and one might think she was entirely fine, but he knew her. He knew her more than he knew himself, at least he thought so. He knows the look in her eyes and what it means, he thinks he's seen a similar look once before; eyes wide and glassy as she stares at nothing in particular. Hands are reaching for her arm, moving on their own accord, when he realizes how cold it feels beneath his touch.

"Is this okay?" He asks, voice low and reluctant, as he wraps his arms around her lithe form. She leans against him for support and shivers in the embrace, not daring to speak a word: "I-I don't know what to do.." He admits aloud and he feels as if he's talking to himself. "Just tell me, please, tell me and I can try to make it all better. I mean — I will. I will make it better, Rey, just tell me." 

"I learned a new lesson today, and I'm—.. I'm not certain I can follow through with it." Is what she eventually states after a few, silent minutes pass. She blinks a few times, fighting back tears and essentially what she notes as weakness.

"Rey, you have to, you know that. Whatever it is, it'll be okay. I promise." Always quick to reassure he is, as he rests his chin upon the very top of her head. He finally notes that her hair is out of its usual updo, and is instead down and cascading over her shoulders. 

"No, Finn, you don't understand.. I suppose I don't expect you to." A humorless laugh spews from her lips as she allows herself to be consoled, teeth gnawing at her lower lip decisively. "You're aware of the Jedi Code, yeah?" He nods vigorously in response. "Then you know the rules?"

"Something about not being mean to others, maybe? I think? Right? That's one, right?" Another humorless laugh spills from her mouth and he unconsciously drifts the very tips of his fingers against the skin of her arms. "What else is there that I'm missing?"

"I'm stuck on the attachment part, Finn. You know — no type of relationship bond." She sort of winces at the words and eventually just shakes her head. "You know what I mean, don't you?"

"Friendship doesn't count does it? I mean.. Mr. Skywalker has General Organa and they're siblings, so they have a really strong bond. And friendship is almost like being family, closest thing I've got, at least." But there is no melancholy in his tone, he recognizes the familiar ache in his chest, however, as he thinks about his parents.

For a moment, tension-filled silence surrounds them. His fingers are rhythmically stroking at the smooth skin of her arms, as if he could ease the rigidness of her form and absorb her pain through his fingertips. If only he had that power. He would ensure she never felt whatever it was she was feeling now and he faintly swears on the force that he can sense exactly what it is she's feeling.

"No, Finn, I meant romantic relationships." She puts emphasis on the words and his fingers stutter upon her skin. She glances up at him, yearning for the soothing warmth.

"So.. You do have a cute boyfriend? Oh. Yeah, no, that's—" 

"No! No? What?" Once more her brows furrow before she almost instantaneously brushes it off: "I meant, well, I meant I want one. Or there's someone that I see as more than a friend. And I can't let them go." Soft hues avert their gaze as she stares toward nothing in particular once more, nearly sighing as his fingers start working her skin.

A thoughtful hum spews from his lips as he traces tiny circles into her skin, contemplating what he could say, and figures that being encouraging would suffice. "Whoever it is, is by the far the luckiest guy in the entirety of the galaxy, lemme tell you that." He soothes his chapped lips with the very tip of his tongue, offering her shoulders a squeeze. "You don't have to let him go, y'know? But you have to go through with your training, you can't let that stop you. I'm sure.. I'm sure if you talked to him about it, he would understand."

Oblivious. He was absolutely oblivious. Perhaps they both were?

"Well?" Milky cheeks flush a faint scarlet as she glances up at him, lashes fluttering delicately. "Do you?"

"Wait, wait, wait." He needs a minute to think because she certainly couldn't be implying what he had yearned for ever since laying eyes on the powerful woman. "I — Yeah, definitely. I definitely understand. But I— I still want to be with you, Rey. I'm not going anywhere, even if this— _us_ —don't go anywhere. I promise, I swear by the Force that I'll be here."

"I can't do it, Finn. I'm sorry." 

This time when she glances up at him, her cerulean gaze flickers down to his lips and there is a crease between her brows as she does so. Finn finds himself shifting in their embrace to gain better access to her countenance, fingers still absently caressing her skin. Hesitantly he leans forward, the latter visibly tensing as he does so, to gently brush their lips together in a chaste display of affection.

She blinks up at him and he begins to move away, deciding that he quite possibly had the worse timing in the history of the galaxy. But there she is awkwardly slithering a hand between their bodies to press on the back of his neck, bringing their lips flush together once more. As inexperienced as the kiss is, just gentle brushes of lips, they still managed to find solace and revel in the exchange of emotion.

Uncertain as whether what they were doing too much too soon, Finn thinks he would allow Rey to control their actions. And he softly gasps when the brunette takes the initiative to brush the very tip of her tongue across his bottom lip, silently pleading for something, and he willingly obliges. Much like he always would for her. But this time they both gasp when their tongues meet in a timid touch, the brunette slightly tilting her head in the way she had seen those on Jakku do.

"Rey, I—" He manages to splutter in between kisses, the latter shushing him with slightly more pressure upon his lips. If he wasn't so high on Rey, he could have sworn he heard her voice in his head saying 'I know.'

Stormtrooper training could have never prepared him for this.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd be happy for some criticism and feedback with how I portray them.. I still don't have a good grasp on them yet, especially Poe. But I'm trying, I promise !!
> 
> Lemme know how I did, please ? <3


End file.
